Lonesome Flower
by AmericanMadeInChina
Summary: The man that would always sit in the park while it was drenched with ongoing raindrops had called out to me for the first time that day. He told me that he was comforting the lonesome flowers. Though, something in those emerald orbs, or perhaps the way he spoke, told me that the only lonesome flower in that park was the man himself. (Weird-ass UKUS AU Oneshot)


**I don't really know what this is. I got really bored a few nights ago and I felt like writing something besides "To Change Fate". Thus, this "wtf idk" fanfic was born. I write some pretty deep/strange shit when I'm tired.**

**Side note: This is a HUMAN AU.**

There that man was again. Though, it wasn't much of a surprise. He arrived in town every time spring dew coated the bright flowers of the park. Droplets of crystal liquid jumped from his silky, golden strands of lace-like hair, falling to their deaths at the cement below. He never brought an umbrella to shield himself of the water that harassed him from above. Just an old, worn-out coat as his only form of security.

There he remained seated, on a park bench, surrounded by the blossoming colours known as flowers. He would gently tilt his head up towards the grey mess of fluff above, and let the emerald gems residing on his face slide shut in a brief slumber.

I strolled past him every day of spring, an umbrella protecting me from the merciless waters surrounding the town. I took an extra moment at that park to gaze at the sight before me. It was so peculiar—yet, at the same time, it was so very mesmerising. Lonesome pale flesh soaking with herds of raindrops, a gentle smile dancing on lips as a pair of eyes got lost in the refreshment of it all. I felt as if I were on the pages of a poetry book, with the blonde man before me as the main subject. Or perhaps I was a tourist gazing at a masterpiece done by a famous Italian artist. Ah, but I was neither of those. The man in front of me was so real that I could easily reach out and run my fingertips across the wet skin that belonged to him.

"You, boy." a voice sounded, and I saw his mouth move. I looked back towards him, and saw that the two forests hiding in his eyes were now catching me in them. I felt my chest bang like the thunder that occasionally shrieked.

I recovered from the surprise that had overtook me. "Yes?" I inquired, forcing my sea-blue eyes to clash with the forest-green ones.

I could barely hear the slight chuckle that bounced from his throat. "I've noticed." he informed me vaguely. I could finally hear the English accent that masked his speech. I had to admit, it increased his charm.

I raised a confused eyebrow. "You've 'noticed'? What does that mean?"

He ripped his eye-contact from mine, looking down at the flowers. "You always stop and stare at me."

The thumping in my chest only increased when he said that. I could feel a hue of heat covering my face and stealing its original shade. "That's..." I trailed off for a moment, my gaze drifting towards my sneakers in thought.

The man's lip quirked up in a self-satisfied smirk. Apparently, he had assumed I was stumped on what to say. I wouldn't let that happen, though.

"That's because it's just so strange." I lifted my head back up to meet the somewhat surprised expression of the Brit. "You always just sit here in the rain. Why do such a thing when you could watch the flowers while they are showered with sunshine?"

Another expression of surprise appeared momentarily on his face, though it soon faded into a rather genuine yet sad smile. Green orbs moved towards the smiling and colourful plants near him, causing me to follow his example.

"You see," he started. My attention was put on him immediately. "So many come here when it is pleasant out. When it is storming, though, they cower away from all outdoors and stay in the comfort of their residence. No one comes to visit the flowers when it rains, though. I can only imagine how lonely it must be."

The man before me began seeming even stranger than before, but the soft smile that played on his lips was warm and inviting compared to the rages of the storm.

"Thus, I come here when no one else will. When the flowers are lonesome, I accompany them." A skinny index finger stroked the pristine petal of a lily.

I stared for a moment, as I did before the man even spoke to me. I thought about the words that were just said to me. Though, even once I had finished processing them, I still had not a clue how to respond. Luckily for me, though, he continued speaking.

"Would you be so kind as to comfort the weeping flowers with me?" he asked.

The winds that had once flew endlessly were now just whispers in the air around us, and the raindrops seemed to settle. But I could still hear the weeping of the flowers. I could feel the frigid cold of their loneliness. I could hear them calling for help, as I nodded my head and mumbled a light, "Okay."

As I sat myself next to the green-eyed man, my pants soaked through with rain from the bench. Even so, I heard the flowers begin to laugh instead of cry and saw sun although it remained cloudy. I shivered at the loss of my umbrella once I put it down. To my surprise, though, I felt the warmth of something against my back. I glanced behind and saw a dark green coat laying on my back. As I moved my eyes across from myself, I saw emeralds shining with joy and a beaming smile.

The man patted my head and murmured, "Thank you."


End file.
